


Maple Bacon for Christmas

by BotchedExperiment



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28197342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BotchedExperiment/pseuds/BotchedExperiment
Summary: Patrick spent a week preparing for Christmas at his parents’ house. He talked about it constantly and told David about all the fun traditions they had to look forward to. It was starting to get David excited for Christmas too, and he wasn’t usually one to look forward to holiday gatherings.So of course Patrick had to wake up with a sore throat the day that they left.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 18
Kudos: 91





	Maple Bacon for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> wrote it last December... didn't edit it for a year... and EYYY I guess I saved it for this Christmas 
> 
> please enjoy!

Patrick spent a week preparing for Christmas at his parents’ house. He talked about it constantly and told David about all the fun traditions they had to look forward to. It was starting to get David excited for Christmas too, and he wasn’t usually one to look forward to holiday gatherings.

So of course Patrick had to wake up with a sore throat the day that they left.

He developed a consistent sniffle halfway through their drive, and he was fast asleep with his head against the window when David pulled into a gas station, snoring with obvious congestion. David frowned.

Patrick was so excited for this. They hadn’t seen his parents in months. The universe wasn’t fair, David decided. Dare he say that he’d rather be the sick one just so Patrick could enjoy his time with his family.

He exited the car as quietly as possible, locked the doors, and went inside. There were a variety of people in there, probably grabbing snacks and gas for their own road trips. An older, overworked woman stood at the counter, still managing to wish everyone happy holidays as they left.

David searched the place for a good amount of time, but apparently convenience stores didn’t feel the need to sell full-sized tissue boxes. He settled for a handful of the little packets, knowing from experience that they didn’t last long. He picked out a couple of snacks, and grabbed a bag of cough drops. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and that was all David could do:  _ something _ .

“Looks like someone’s not feeling great,” the woman said as he piled the things onto the counter.

David nodded. “My fiance is coming down with a cold or something.”

She made a sympathetic sound and bagged the last of the tissue packets. “And just in time for Christmas, huh? That’s too bad.”

“Ugh, I know." He took the bag, making sure to thank her and wish her a Merry Christmas.

She smiled. “Merry Christmas. Hope you two have a good one.”

David tried to return to the car quietly, but apparently it wasn’t quiet enough. Patrick made a questioning noise in the back of his throat and lifted his head.

His eyes were a little watery now, and when he sniffled David could hear the damage this virus had already done to his sinuses.

“H-” Patrick stopped to clear his throat. “Hey. Get anything good?”

“Tissues,” Answered David. “Lots of tissues. And some snacks. And cough drops, because we both know that everything goes to your chest when you’re sick.”

“’m not  _ that _ sick,” Patrick argued. He sniffled again, this time bringing his jacket sleeve to his nose and rubbing harshly. “But about those tissues?”

“Back seat. Actually, no, you stay there. You obviously need them, like now.” He reached back and dug around blindly until his hand came in contact with what he was looking for. He sat it on Patrick’s lap in lieu of directly handing it to him, knowing that that his hands weren’t exactly sanitary right now.

“Thanks,” Patrick sniffed. He spent a good while blowing his nose as they got back onto the road. If he sounded this bad now, David could only imagine how much sicker he was going to be when they arrived at their destination. “I talked to dad yesterday, and he said they have a present for you.”

“Oh God, should I be worried?”

“Naw. I don’t think so.” He pulled another tissue and pressed it to his nose. “And no offense to your father, but my dad is pretty good at gifts.”

“No, all the offense to him. He gave me a useless currency last year and we gave him a whole Christmas party.”

Patrick chuckled. “He’s not  _ my  _ dad, though, so I don’t think I’m allowed to complain.”

“Give it time. You’ll have to eventually.”

The moment the GPS announced that they were ten minutes away was the same moment that Patrick started to cough. It was only one cough, harmless, but they both knew it was a sign for things to come, even if Patrick didn’t want to admit it. David had too many flashbacks to the sleepless nights during Patrick’s last cold not to be worried.

Patrick blew his nose again when they were two minutes away. David had a feeling he wanted his voice to sound clearer. It didn’t seem to do much good. He was still sniffling repeatedly, and one would be able to tell that he was sick with one glance. He knew better than to state the obvious when Patrick was already not in the best of moods.

bags over their shoulder and gifts in-hand, they walked up to the door, and Patrick didn’t bother knocking.

“Mom? Dad?” He called throughout the house.

It was cute, David had to admit. Small, but well-decorated with every Christmas-related item one could think of. A beautiful tree sat in front of the living room window for everyone outside to see. 

He followed Patrick’s lead by taking his shoes off and hanging up his coat. Patrick took him further inside and set his bags down in the living room, snuffled and swiped at his nose. He went to take David’s bags as well, but seemed to think better of it when David scoffed and pulled away.

“I don’t think so,” David whispered playfully, and Patrick didn’t look at all offended. Why did he feel the need to whisper? The house was just so quiet, save for the Christmas music coming from-

“Oh, you’re here!” Marcy came from out of nowhere. The front of her shirt was dusted with flour, but David couldn’t even think of denying her a hug. She was so small he had to lean down to let her get to him, but her hug was warm and welcoming. “David, you look good!”

“Oh, thank you,” he said awkwardly, because apparently being awkward was what he did in front of his fiance’s parents.

Marcy turned to Patrick and wrapped him in a hug as well. “I’m so glad you came,” she said with all the sweetness and sincerity in the world.

Patrick returned the hug with just as much love. “I’m glad we’re here too, mom.”

David winced. Patrick's voice sounded  _ rough _ , and he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

She looked up to her son and frowned, brows furrowing. “Do you have a cold?”

“Just a little one, yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll try to keep it to myself.”

“We’re not worried about that. Your dad and I are just happy to have you two here at all.”

“Yeah, speaking of dad...?”

“He’s out getting some last-minute groceries. I needed some more icing for the cookies,” she said with a sheepish shrug.

Patrick started to say something else before it morphed into a painful cough. David knew his throat was already sore, so that must’ve felt awful. He laid a hand on Patrick’s back, now both he and Marcy frowning at him.

“Okay, I’m going to make some of that tea you like.” Marcy nodded decidedly as she patted his arm.

“Mom, no, you don’t have to-”

“Too late!” Called the voice of the woman who was somehow already in the kitchen.

Patrick smiled. A genuine smile, not one put on for his mom. David was glad he was so happy to be back home, because he was probably in for a miserable Christmas.

\-----

They sat at the kitchen island drinking their tea while Marcy pulled another batch of cookies out of the oven. The kitchen smelled amazing, and the tea was surprisingly good, even for an avid coffee drinker like David. He mentioned it to Marcy and she smiled.

“I used to make that for Patrick when he was sick. He would always ask for it when he wasn’t feeling well, no matter how old he was. Do you remember when you got that awful flu right before the show choir competition, honey?”

Patrick winced. “Ugh. Yeah. I can’t believe I made it through the whole thing without passing out.” He sniffled, and David immediately nudged a nearby tissue box toward him. Patrick nodded thankfully and pressed one to his nose.

Marcy turned to David with a sigh of exasperation. “We couldn’t stop him from performing that night. His father and I ended up driving him to the doctor immediately after the show because his fever was so high.”

“Oh my God,” David turned to Patrick, who gave a sheepish smile.

“It was a big show. And we  _ won,  _ by the way,” he said to his mother very pointedly.

Marcy scoffed. “Always pushing yourself too hard. Oh well, I suppose that’s what we’re here for, hm David?”

“Oh,  _ absolutely.”  _ He wrapped an arm around Patrick’s shoulders and tried not to worry too much about the body heat that he met with. Patrick wasn’t usually that warm, was he?

Mr. Brewer returned just as the three of them were taste-testing the fresh batch of cookies. ( _ “Quality control,” _ Marcy insisted.)

“Look who it is,” Clint chuckled. His hugs weren’t quite as big as Marcy’s but they were still just as nice. He smiled until his gaze set on Patrick. He squinted at his son. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

Patrick huffed out a laugh. “Not crying, dad. Just kind of sick. Woke up with a cold this morning.”

“Ah. Well I see your mom already made that tea you like.” He patted Patrick’s back and moved past him to set the groceries on the kitchen counter. “I hope you two are hungry. We’re making pasta tonight.”

“When’s everyone coming?”

“Oh, not until tomorrow,” said Marcy. “We thought it’d be fun to have a dinner with just the four of us.”

\-----

Patrick didn’t finish half of his plate before he gave up. He’d been sniffling and sneezing all through dinner, and he finally took a napkin to blow his nose into, turning away from everyone. “Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat.

David laid a hand on his arm, hoping to be comforting rather than stifling, and Patrick didn’t seem to mind. Marcy had an expression of pure sympathy as she watched her son push around the food on his plate.

David was thankful that they weren’t expected to help with dishes. Marcy and Clint seemed to understand when they both disappeared upstairs.

David was kind of hoping for some obnoxious, embarrassing childhood bedroom, but Patrick’s room was pretty tame considering what David’s looked like as a teenager.

His attention, however, was brought back to his ailing fiance who was in the middle of a coughing fit. He sat on the edge of his bed, burying his face in the bend of his elbow. He winced afterward and rubbed his throat.

"Jeez…"

David frowned. "The cough drops are in my bag, in case… you know…"

Patrick nodded, a pained expression still on his face as he reached for David's bag. "How are you so sweet?"

"Oh, I ask myself that question every day."

\-----

It took Patrick far longer than usual to fall asleep. His nose was runny and he did his best to keep it in check.

"Don't get snot on me, please," said David as he draped an arm around Patrick and pulled him close. He was starting to shiver, despite how warm he felt.

"Mm, I'll try." He sniffled. He buried his face in David's chest, and was  _ definitely  _ getting snot on him. David was glad he decided to pack a plethora of clothes, because he wouldn't be wearing that sweatshirt again any time soon. "Good night."

David pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Night. I hope you feel better in the morning."

"I hope so too. _ " _

_ \----- _

David was given a rude awakening when his pillow, or rather, Patrick jerked aggressively. He was suddenly aware of an unfortunate gurgle in Patrick's breath as his breath hitched and he turned away for an unfortunate sneeze. "S-sor-" was all he got out before he sneezed again, and again, and by that time he had both hands cupped over his nose and mouth.

David yawned and reached across Patrick to get the last packet of tissues and tear it open. "Here, here…" He mumbled, nudging his fiance.

Patrick nodded a thanks and spent a good amount of time tending to his nose, sniffling and blowing and staving off a fourth sneeze. Patrick gave one last, deep sniffle and seemed to determine that his nose was as clear as it was going to get.

There was a slight wheeze in his breathing, and he looked pale and still felt so warm.

He was not better.

Patrick sighed heavily. His breath hitched again, and David was ready to get another tissue out before he realized that Patrick was crying. “I hate this.”

“I know…"

“David, I feel awful. There's no way that I can…"

“I know. It’s fine."

"It's not  _ fine."  _ Patrick sniffled, but this time it wasn't from illness. He rubbed his eyes and weirdly enough, gave a self-deprecating chuckle through the tears. "God, I'm such a mess."

"Hey, listen…" David sat up and wrapped an arm around him, holding him close, feeling the fever that was probably making him this emotional in the first place. "We're going to have a  _ fucking amazing  _ Christmas, okay? I mean, we're here, and that's already great."

Patrick shook his head. "I don’t know about that, David."

"Everything will work out." David pressed a kiss to his temple and smiled, despite the fact that he himself was wondering how this was going to be a good Christmas when Patrick was so sick. "Now, I'm starving and I smell bacon so I think we should go downstairs and see what that's about."

Patrick started to get out of bed before sinking back against the pillows once again. "I don't know if I'm ready to get up quite yet. I'm so tired."

David nodded. "Okay, then I will go find breakfast and bring it up here. Sound good?"

"Sure."

\-----

"Morning, David," Marcy greeted over the sound of crackling bacon on the stove.

David returned the sleepy morning wishes as he slipped onto one of the island stools. "I was hoping to  _ obtain _ some breakfast? Patrick wasn't feeling up to getting out of bed quite yet."

"How's he doing?"

David made a hesitant noise as he thought about how to reply. Would Patrick be okay with him delivering details of his well being? And then he remembered that these were Brewers, not Roses. Patrick had never mentioned his family using personal flaws or blunders as blackmail like his own family had.

"His cold kind of got worse over the night. I think he's feeling a little… discouraged? About, y’know, being sick on Christmas."

"Oh, we'll make it work. We always have," said Marcy, a kind smile on her face as she plated some bacon and eggs.

David nodded. "I tried telling him that. He's just a little um, emotional this morning." Should he have said that?

Marcy didn't look surprised in the least. "I had a feeling that was coming. He always pushes himself to his absolute limit until he-"

"- falls apart?" David finished.

Marcy laughed. "Looks like you've got him figured out already." She slid two plates toward him and patted his arm. "I'm glad he has someone like you who cares so much, David. You're so good for him."

He couldn't bite back the smile. God, it was too early in the morning to get so sentimental. "I think he's good for me, too."

David had a feeling Patrick would be asleep when he returned. He set Patrick's plate aside and got comfortable in bed with his own.

Patrick woke himself with a nasty coughing fit not two minutes later. He blinked wearily at David, who had already scarfed down his bacon and was halfway through his eggs.

"Morning," David tried, with a mouthful of breakfast. "Again. Here, got breakfast."

Patrick yawned and sniffed. "Not very hungry, but thank you."

"Your mom made maple bacon, though."

Patrick's brows perked up with interest. "I guess a couple bites wouldn't hurt."

David waited for him to sit up and then sat the plate on his lap, watching fondly as Patrick nibbled at his breakfast. "You're incredibly adorable, you know that?"

"David, I'm so gross right now."

"Oh, yes, you're totally gross. But you're also super cute."

A scoff. "Whatever you say.”

They ate their breakfast in relative silence, save for the occasional sniffle from Patrick. He ended up eating the entire plate, which was both good and bad for David, who had planned to eat whatever he didn’t.

Patrick finished blowing his nose for the thousandth time that morning and sighed heavily. "This sucks."

"I know," David kissed his temple, before turning Patrick to face him with a gentle hand on the side of his face. “Do you think you’re ready to face Christmas head-on?

“Maybe. We’ll see,” Patrick said with a shrug and a smirk. “Although,” he paused to sniffle and rub his nose, before dropping his head on David’s shoulder. “I do have you here with me, so I think I’ll be okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> this one was not my best, but i wanted to share it anyway :P  
> plz don't call me out for naming half my fics after foods
> 
> Have a good holiday season, everyone <3 you deserve it after this year


End file.
